


You left me

by script_nef



Series: Logophile (n. English) [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Gen, Internal Monologue, just a shit ton of angst, word fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:53:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25760128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/script_nef/pseuds/script_nef
Summary: My home, my everything. I can’t breathe without you.
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Reader
Series: Logophile (n. English) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1831378
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	You left me

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration: **[Hiraeth]**
> 
>  **Hiraeth (n. Welsh)**  
>  /ˈhɪraɨ̯θ/
> 
> : homesickness for a home which one cannot return to  
>  nostalgia, longing and yearning for the past

Guests leave one by one, gently patting him on the shoulder and expressing their sorrows on their way out. He thanks them softly, not knowing what to say other than that. He says goodbye to your parents, eyes lowering at their crying and broken faces. They had the same expression for the past few days, but he couldn’t bring himself to show the same. He just can’t feel anything right now. 

Everyone but him left, but he can’t move. The only he can do is stare blankly at your beaming face. You look gorgeous in the photo. He remembers the day, only because you begged him to go with you on a date/errand run. You always tried to spend time with him due to his hectic schedule. He should have done more.

It was a happy day, one of bright sunshine and soothing winds. The week had been cold and you put off leaving the house under the pretence of contracting “a rare illness where I die if I’m in the blistering cold and harsh winds”. He chuckled whenever you repeated the phrase, and it brought a smile to you as well. So when a break from the horrendous weather coincided with a free day for him, you leapt at the chance. 

He remembers you practically skipping down the street, drawing attention but not having a care in the world. The sun’s rays glistened on your skin and you looked so radiant. Your laughter was music to his ears, and he thought that you were a work of art when beckoning him to catch up with a hand stretched out.

You went to the photography studio for photos to put in a resume for a new job. You were really looking forward to it as it gave you the possibility to work more flexible hours with better benefits. So that you could spend more time with him. _Ah_ , he laments, _I should have been more attentive. I should have tried as much as you._

You took a serious one, as it was needed for a resume, with a borrowed jacket. Then one where you were smiling, urging him to come into the shot. You laced your arm with his, leaning onto his shoulder while radiating happiness. He could feel himself become lighter around you, like only the two of you existed in that moment. That photo hung on the mirror in his room. _My room. Not “ours” anymore. Just… me now._

Reality comes crashing back, a tsunami of anguish and heartbreak and loneliness and _so much pain_. A sob rips past his mouth, his lungs aching and he feels like he’s caving into himself. Heartbeats echo in his ears as he reaches out to your face which is adorned with a small smile.

How could you leave him like this? You promised to always be there for him, you _promised_. He clutches the photo frame, hugging it so tightly that it might break and pierce into him. Would he be able to meet you if that happened? Would you be there when he opens his eyes, snoring softly and off in your dreamland like every morning? _  
_But he knows you would scold and cry at him for coming so quickly, for leaving his life behind just for you. It would be worth it if he could just meet and remind you of his love even if it’s for the last time— _I love you, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me, please don’t leave me behind, I adore everything about you, thank you for loving me, please don’t go._

He sits there for what feels like aeons, cradling your photo. He nearly falls into slumber, and a part of him hopes that this is just an elaborate prank, that you would jolt him awake and laugh at how stupid he is for falling for that.

But life isn’t that kind. He’s woken by the owner of the establishment, adorning a sad look, telling him that he needs to leave. He looks at your face again. The frame is returned to its original spot, and he presses a kiss onto the glass pane. The cold flat surface is so different from your soft and warm lips. He bows to the owner and walks out, feet as heavy as lead. 

The autumn sunset is beautiful. Orange and red hues reach across the sky and it looks like it’s leaking onto the surviving leaves on trees. You would have loved this scene. You would have exclaimed the beauty in fragility and time, where everything wasted away but at the same time thrived. You were deep and romantic like that. It was an endearing characteristic, even if he couldn’t understand all of your infinite thoughts and wisdom. 

He needs to move. He can’t stand here, in the middle of the footpath for all eternity. He needs to go back to—he needs to go—where? Where can he go now? Everywhere is filled with memories with you; his favourite café, the park down the road, the school in the neighbourhood you both went to, the bridge where he confessed to you, his _home_. _  
_Where every nook and cranny contains traces of you; your perfume, your ridiculous charms, your art, your plants, your clothes, your photos. Endless memories; moving in together, the first fight, his failed attempt at breakfast-in-bed, professing his adoration for you as you drifted to sleep, redecorating the house, the uncountable number of kisses and soft whispers of love.

He can’t go back. He _can’t_. Not when everything is so raw, not when he still loves you so impossibly and so limitlessly. Not when he’s so weak and so close to breaking.

The lights feel like it’s dimming, like the world is closing down on him. You would have held his hand and sung softly into his ear, telling him to calm down and breathe, that you love him so much. That he doesn’t have anything to worry about and how competent and kind and loving he is. He can’t breathe, can’t escape the panic that covers him and can’t function without you.

He’s lost, so, _so_ lost because you’re not here. He begs to the empty space for the past, for it to come and give his love and world back along with the joy he felt every time he opened his eyes to meet with yours in the morning. To give back the warmth in his life.

_Ah, my love, my heart, my everything. You left me and took everything with you; my soul, life, passion and home. I long for you. I long for the space where we could love each other. I long for my home in you._

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr account](https://script-nef.tumblr.com/)


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